Chapter 12
twelve
H e clearly needed to do this by himself.
Cell phone glued to one ear, Noah paced the sidewalk in front of Magnolia Bank & Trust, aware that he probably resembled a caged tiger—sans cage. The morning sun played peek-a-boo with the clouds overhead, far too cheerful for his mood. A mother walking with her toddler gave him one glance and changed their route to the opposite side of the street. Great, now he was scaring children.
Noah stabbed his hand through his hair as he verbally approved the mold mitigation company’s quote.
The high one.
“Next week? Sure. As soon as possible.” He turned to pace again, narrowly dodging a light post adorned with a wreath of white magnolia blossoms. If last night’s meeting with Elisa had accomplished anything, it proved this treasure hunt was out of his league. Sure, they’d finally solved the first clue, but they had zero leads on the next.
More importantly, last night proved the sooner he left Magnolia Bay, the better.
After spending hours tossing in his bed, reliving the almost kiss and debating whether he’d been upset or relieved at Isaac’s interruption of it, he’d formed a middle-of-the-night backup plan. He cast a wary gaze up at the Magnolia Bank & Trust sign.
Hopefully Owen remembered they were friends.
Noah thanked the agent on the other end of the line—as genuinely as one could thank someone for highway robbery—and pocketed his cell before pulling open the front door of the bank.
A rush of air conditioning wafted over his flushed skin. He straightened his shoulders as he entered the fake fern-filled lobby, hoping the sweat he felt on his back wasn’t showing through his blue button-up shirt. He’d refused to wear a tie to this drop-in meeting, but figured adding a collar wouldn’t hurt his chances at a loan.
A low whistle greeted him as he headed toward the roped-off line in front of the teller counter. He turned in time to see Cade strolling toward him from the row of offices on the far wall.
“My man! Looking sharp.”
Noah shook his head as he returned his buddy’s handshake. “Just trying to keep up with you.”
“Good luck.” Cade straightened the lapels of his tailored jacket and posed with a toothy grin—the one that had earned him a spot as an extra when a movie crew came through the bay a few years back.
Noah smirked. “You’re fancy, even for you.”
“I had a meeting with the branch manager—still working on getting some post-hurricane fundraising sponsors for a big event this summer. Got a community softball game in the works, too, among other things.” Cade checked the Rolex on his wrist. “What are you doing here so early? The bank just opened.”
“Need to talk to Owen.”
“The hunt not going well?”
“Dude. I almost kissed her.” The admission blurted free before Noah could remember two important facts—he hadn’t planned on telling anyone, and they were in a public place.
Cade’s eyebrows shot toward his gelled hairline. “I’d say step into my office, but I don’t have one. So we’re stepping into Owen’s.” He tugged Noah around the corner into a glassed-off cubicle. “He’s not in yet.”
Noah glanced at the lobby they’d vacated. “We’re probably not supposed to be here.”
“You keep forgetting my dad’s the mayor.” Cade pointed to one of the two armchairs opposite Owen’s desk. “Sit.”
Noah sat, bracing his arms on the legs of his jeans. He couldn’t bring himself to wear the khaki pants, but at least these were the Levi’s without stains. Not that Owen needed impressing.
His gaze drifted to the framed family photo on his friend’s desk, taken with Owen’s pastor-father, Sunday-school-teaching mother, and his two fellow PK siblings, Sawyer and Adeline. They all smiled big for the camera, a happy blend of autumn leaves and denim shirts.
Noah’s throat knotted. What would it have been like growing up with two parents who loved each other? What would have happened if he hadn’t left town as a young teen, after his dad cheated and left him and his mom to face the gossip alone?
Would he and Elisa still have had that one summer together, several years later?
“So.” Cade mirrored Noah’s posture from the other chair. “Back to this kiss.”
“Almost kiss,” Noah corrected.
“Potato…” His friend’s voice held warning.
Noah sighed. “We started the hunt. Finally figured out the first clue—well, Elisa did, anyway.”
Cade squinted, but didn’t interrupt.
“It was at the lighthouse.”
He flinched. “You hate heights.”
“I remember.” Noah snorted. “So did Elisa. She helped me focus on finding the clue and not the fact I was one hundred and seventy-seven steps above the earth.”
“So you kissed at the lighthouse?”
“ Almost kissed.”
“You almost kissed at the lighthouse?”
“At the inn. We grabbed a pizza and were celebrating our victory. Started talking. Laughing.”
“And one thing led to another.” Cade nodded. “I get it. You don’t have to kiss and tell, don’t worry.”
“There’s not a kiss to tell about.” Close, though. Noah snagged a business card from the holder on Owen’s desk and spun it between his fingers. So close he could still smell her, could still feel the lines of her face under his fingertips.
“You’re sure worked up over an almost kiss.” Cade leaned back, hooking one expensive loafer over his knee. “Did she reject you?”
Hardly. She’d been leaning toward him like the tower of Pisa. “Her dad walked in.” Then the rejection started.
Cade’s foot slipped off his knee and hit the ground with a thump. He leaned forward, chin braced in his hands. “Isaac caught you with his daughter?”
Noah spun the card faster. “Remember, we hadn’t actually kissed.”
“What happened?”
This was the part he hated most. Noah spread his hands. “Isaac told me off and they left.”
“And Elisa?”
He swallowed. “Didn’t say a word.” History repeating itself.
“Man.” Cade shook his head. “So you’re here to get a second loan because you’re giving up on the hunt.”
“Maybe. Isaac resorted to drastic measures that one summer. Not sure if his ire would have calmed by now or grown hotter.” Noah bounced one leg. “I can’t risk him sabotaging this inspection.”
He’d never told anyone about the letters Elisa’s dad had started sending to the inn that year—and there was no reason to now. The people who needed to believe him wouldn’t, and the others wouldn’t care.
Cade nodded. “So basically, you need to make sure Isaac doesn’t stay ticked at you until the inspection passes. Which will be hard with you and Elisa working together.”
“Right. So it seemed wise to come here, evaluate my options.”
“You might not have many of those if it’s money you’re after.” Owen strode inside his cubicle, his striped tie hanging crooked as he maneuvered between them to his chair. He grinned as he plunked his lunchbox on his desk. “Good to see you boys. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“We needed a quiet place to wait.” Cade shot Noah a look—one Noah returned with a solid don’t say a word expression.
“Happy to help.” Owen wiggled the mouse to wake up his computer. “Let’s see what we can do. Cade, do you need money, too?”
Cade snorted, then shot Noah an apologetic glance. “I mean, no. I’m good.” He stood and clapped Noah on the shoulder. “I’ll let you two talk shop. Keep me posted.”
Owen waved as Cade cat-walk strolled out of the cubicle. Then he typed in his computer password. “So what are we looking at?” He leaned back and pulled an old-fashioned calculator from his center drawer. “I’m assuming this is about the inn and the mold.”
Noah named the total figure the mitigation company had given him. “I don’t know if this inheritance is going to pay out that much—if we can finish the treasure hunt and get it in the first place.” No sense in reviewing the extra complication he and Elisa had thrown into the mix last night.
Or the fact that they had yet to speak since then.
Not that it bothered him. They were adults now, not hormonal teenagers. They’d simply gotten caught up in the moment and post-victory endorphins. It was better for Noah to back out now, get some distance back between them, and forget this silly hunt.
He’d handle his finances in the more traditional fashion—by going into crazy amounts of debt.
Owen made a humming sound in the back of his throat as he clicked through records on his screen. “I’ve got your current construction loan pulled up, the one you took out through the business to make the renovations. The payment history is solid, which the powers-that-be will like. But you’re talking about needing a bridge loan, and unfortunately that cap is hit. I’d ask for a favor except there’s also the existing mortgage you’re still making payments on…” He offered a sympathetic wince. “They’d laugh at me, honestly.”
So it was worse than he’d imagined. Noah sighed. Gilbert had enough tucked back in the business account to pay the mortgage through the next several months, but without the coming tourist season, they’d be bankrupt in no time. Everything depended on the inn opening again, ASAP.
Which meant the mold had to be dealt with one way or another.
Owen pushed his glasses up on his nose. “I could run numbers on you personally, but you realize that changes the obligation on your part. You’ll be blurring the lines between your business and your own finances.”
Noah had feared it might come to that. But what choice did he have? He couldn’t quit on the inn. Or on his grandfather. He could take the loan out himself, and pay himself back through the summer profits. Of course the treasure hunt could solve all of this, but was the cost of working with Elisa worth the risks? Worth aggravating Isaac into more revenge?
Worth stirring up things best left unstirred?
“Go ahead and see.” Noah shifted in his chair. “My credit is good.”
“Which will help. But remember, everyone is stretched thin right now with the hurricane.” Owen frowned as he began furiously putting in numbers. “If you had a co-signer, like your grandfather did for that second mortgage years ago, it’d be no problem. Do you have co-signing options that you know of?”
“No. It’s just me,” Noah answered quickly—probably too quickly, but Owen didn’t seem to notice as he punched a few more keys.
“Your current income-to-debt ratio isn’t bad. That’s good.” He kept typing, then switched back to his calculator.
“Are we a go, then?” Noah returned the business card to Owen’s desk, trying not to panic over the deposit due next week when the mitigation crew showed up.
“Not yet.” Owen offered a tentative smile. “Luckily, you have an in with one of the top producing officers this year.” He squared his shoulders.
“Congrats.” Noah’s phone buzzed in his pocket, reminding him his workday wasn’t going to wait around forever. He stood. “I’d sure appreciate any leverage you could pull for me.”
He tried to hide his smile as Owen scrambled to stand too, his rolling chair knocking into his knees and nearly sending him back down. “Of course.” Owen smoothed his tie as he regained his balance. “Let me see what I can do. I should have an answer for you in a few days.”
“Thanks, man.” Noah said goodbye, then made his way back through the lobby, his phone buzzing with another incoming text. His heart shouted a hope his mind chastised. He had no business wanting Elisa to text him. No business hoping she’d clarify why she hadn’t stood up for him last night.
It shouldn’t matter. He just needed to get back to the inn and change out of this stiff shirt, make a dent on his list, prepare for the mitigation crew next week…anything to distract him from this page in history attempting to repeat itself in real time.
But to make sure it wasn’t her…
He pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the display. Then he stopped short in the middle of the bank.
Delia had texted him.
Delia
Trouble at the coffee shop. COME QUICK.
* * *
“I made a big mistake.” Elisa set Delia’s wheelchair brake at the corner table by the window at Chug a Mug and hurried to move the extra seat out of the way. The espresso machine whirred from the front counter, and several patrons turned and offered sympathetic smiles to Delia in her chair.
“What mistake? Did you forget to order me decaf?” The older woman’s brows rose as she looked up at Elisa. “Because I sure wouldn’t complain.” She covered an exaggerated yawn with her hand.
Elisa took the remaining seat opposite Delia. “You know what the doctor said—no caffeine. Your blood pressure has been high.”
“Wouldn’t yours be if you’d been stuck at the hospital the last few days while your café burst into flame?” Delia tugged a napkin free from the dispenser and wiped the table in front of her.
“You heard, huh?” Elisa winced.
“Of course I heard. It was on the news last night. That hospital TV was tiny, but not mute.”
“I’m so sorry. I meant to tell you, but things have been a little hectic.” To put it mildly. There’d been the hours spent cleaning up, going with Noah to the lighthouse, her father running into the inn unannounced...
Her stomach flipped. She was being such a coward, not texting Noah after her abandonment of their victory party last night. But seeing the anger in her dad’s eyes had sent her straight into survival mode—stay calm. Defuse the tension. Hide her emotions.
“I’m teasing you.” Delia patted her hand. “Actually, Lucius came to me yesterday evening, owning everything. He felt horrible.”
“He was a big help cleaning the diner.” Elisa nodded. “He’s over there again with Trish now, finishing up. We should be able to reopen for breakfast tomorrow after the health and code inspections this afternoon.” She checked her watch. Hopefully they could get back to business for their faithful Saturday crowd.
She really needed some normal.
“That’s what I heard.” Delia wadded the napkin into a ball. “I will say it’s a little odd getting secondhand information on my own diner.” She glanced out the window at the café across the street. “In some ways it’s like I’ve already sold it.”
“Don’t say that.” Elisa touched her arm. “Everyone has been trying to let you rest.”
Delia waved one hand in the air. “I fell, that’s all. I’m not completely fragile.”
Elisa frowned. More like fell, cut her arm, obtained a mild concussion, needed surgery, and was rolling around in a wheelchair with high blood pressure. “At least they discharged you this morning.”
“On a handful of ridiculous conditions.” Delia pursed her lips. “Speaking of my accident—have you seen Noah since?”
Elisa licked her suddenly dry lips. Time to confess. “About that…”
Miley appeared at their table, two coffees in hand. “Here you go!” Her smile was wide as she deposited the drinks in front of them with a flourish. “One mini mug decaf latte, and one chug a mug white chocolate mocha with almond milk.”
Oh, no. Elisa offered a weak smile. “Thanks, Miley.”
“Of course!” The girl tugged her tank top down over her low-rise jeans. “Enjoy!”
Elisa met Delia’s gaze as the young barista practically skipped away. “The weather is apparently quite sunny.”
“Well, I wasn’t all that excited about decaf, anyway.” Delia nudged her cup away without trying it.
Elisa risked a sip, then fought the urge to spit it back into the cup. “We better warn the others. You know Sadie comes in here every day like clockwork.”
“I’ll send a few texts, spread the word.” Delia pulled her phone from her pants pocket. “I’ve learned how to use this smartphone pretty well since I’ve had nothing else to do—though it sure makes this old lady feel dumb.”
“You’re a whiz in the kitchen, Mama D. You don’t need to be up-to-date with technology, too.” Elisa gestured to the wheelchair. “How long are they making you use that?”
“Until after my surgery. They don’t want to risk another fall.” Delia wrinkled her nose as she typed out a text, like the very idea of it happening again was simply preposterous.
“Do you have the surgery scheduled yet?”
“They advised as soon as possible. But I’d like to have my ducks in a row first.”
Ducks…meaning a buyer for the café? Elisa traced the lid of her cup with one finger, fighting to keep her tone casual. “So you’re still planning to sell.”
“I don’t see a lot of options from where I’m sitting.” She pointedly tapped the armrest of her wheelchair. “Insurance will make a dent, but the rest will be billed to me after the surgery.” She sighed. “I sure hate debt. And not being able to work after the surgery…it makes sense to hand the Blossom over to someone else.”
A confession bubbled in Elisa’s throat. She wanted so badly to tell Delia about her hope to use the inheritance to cover her surgery but Delia would refuse to let her. She’d have to do it anonymously—assuming she and Noah could figure out the rest of the clues.
Maybe the second clue would make more sense when they weren’t inches away from each other, fighting whatever chemistry had risen from the grave.
“Well, I know the surgery will be a hassle, but I’m glad you’ll be back in shape after that. We all need you.” She glanced through the window at the Magnolia Blossom. Delia came first and was way more important than the café. It held fond memories, but many of those were wrapped up in Delia herself.
“Don’t you worry your sweet little blond head. You can’t get rid of me that easily, now.” Delia’s fingers kept flying over her phone keyboard. “There. Warnings sent.”
Good. Hopefully tomorrow Miley would be in a worse mood. This sure wasn’t the week for Elisa to be cutting back on her own caffeine intake.
“Now, what’s this you were saying about making a mistake?” Delia set her phone down and looked directly at Elisa.
She hesitated, wrapping a paper straw wrapper around her finger. She’d planned to blurt out what happened with Noah last night, but now that Delia had already asked about him, the words felt stuck in her throat like last summer’s strawberry taffy.
“Out with it. I’ve been in the hospital for two days—I deserve a good story.” Delia wiggled her eyebrows.
She drew a fortifying breath. “A lot has happened since your accident.”
“Tell me, tell me. I’ll just be looking out the window while you do, to make sure my café doesn’t suddenly disappear into a sinkhole or some other tragedy.”
“I’ve been named in Gilbert Hebert’s will.”
Delia jerked her attention away from the window to Elisa. “Say what?”
She explained the events of the past few days, ending with the near-kiss from Noah last night and her father’s interruption. “So now we have no idea what to do with the next clue, haven’t spoken since, and I imagine time is ticking for Noah.” She wouldn’t mention her own secret clock counting down to Delia’s surgery.
“Good heavens.” Delia eyed her full coffee cup. “I might need that after all. That’s quite a load, honey.”
“You’re telling me.” Elisa lifted one hand in a wave to Cade, who was approaching the front counter. He waved back, and she quickly sliced one hand through the air in front of her throat.
He tilted his head, frowning.
She mimicked drawing a rainbow in the air, then formed birds with her hands and fluttered them through the air.
His eyes widened in comprehension, and he slowly backed away from the counter, mouthing thank you before he darted out the door.
“Sweet boy, there.” Delia nodded toward where Cade had disappeared. “Now. About your father.” She narrowed her eyes. “How did that conversation go after you left the inn?”
“We haven’t talked, either.”
“But you left with him?”
“I made sure he left, listened to him rant a little, then went home.”
“Without speaking your piece.”
Busted. Elisa shifted positions in her chair, bouncing one foot under the table. “You know I can’t do that.”
“I know you won’t .” Delia shook her head. “Honey, you’ve got to speak up for yourself.”
“That’s never gone well. Not with Dad.”
“You’re an adult now. Things can be different.” She reached across the table and squeezed Elisa’s hand. “It’s not like it was when your sweet mama passed when you were a teenager. I know how you felt like you had to hold your daddy together.”
Emotion burned the back of Elisa’s throat. “He didn’t like outbursts. Or any strong emotion. I think when Mama died, he’d had enough of all that for a lifetime. He needed calm.”
Cooking for Dad, serving him coffee, bringing him his favorite book when he got home from work…those were the times he responded to Elisa with positivity. When she held it together, kept calm, she earned his approval.
The rest of the time, he either stared into space or fussed at her for being emotional.
“Answer this.” Delia let go of her hand. “Do you feel like you did anything wrong by spending time with Noah yesterday?”
Not this time around. Elisa swallowed. “No. We were just having a good time celebrating the first clue. It had been tough—much tougher than we expected. We were caught up in the moment.” She shrugged. “But now we’re stuck again, so I don’t know if any of it matters.”
“You’re not going to get anywhere if you don’t talk.” Delia tapped the table with one finger. “And that applies to both of these men in your life.”
“Noah isn’t in my life .” Elisa began twisting the straw wrapper into another knot. “We’re in a truce. Temporarily working together.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I mean, for a minute, sure, I wondered if we could be friends again.”
Delia’s brow arched. “Friends?”
Heat crawled up Elisa’s throat. “Friends that kiss.”
Delia pursed her lips but, to her credit, stayed silent.
“I should have known better than to get close. Chemistry dies hard, apparently.”
“Sometimes it doesn’t die at all.” Delia nodded. “But why do you even need to kill it? Noah’s a nice guy.”
He had some redeeming qualities, but not enough to erase time. “Because our families hate each other.” Elisa unknotted the paper wrapper. “Not to mention our personal history outside the feud. We’ve got more baggage than an airport. Maybe my dad did me a favor by showing up like that.”
Delia let out a noncommittal grunt.
“If we had kissed, it’d be like opening Pandora’s box. No way to stuff everything back inside once it got loose.”
Delia leveled her with a look. “You already stuff more than you should.” She paused. “You know the right man will love you for who you are…not the image you present.”
The words touched a deep ache, one she’d locked up for a long time. A knot formed in Elisa’s throat and she swallowed against it. “Who said anything about love?”
“That’s what you want, isn’t it? From your dad. And from the right man, one day.”
She snorted. “Let me guess. You think Noah is that man for me?”
“I know it wasn’t that snake of a man you dated in culinary school.” She scrunched her nose. “What was his name? Taylor? Trevor?”
“Trey.”
“Tell me, hon. Were you ever up front about what you felt when you were with Trey?”
“Probably not like you’re meaning. But I made my feelings pretty clear when I stopped by his apartment to surprise him with a baked apple loaf and caught him with one of our classmates.” Even now, the memory chafed like a pair of denim shorts after the log ride at the boardwalk. She’d always had a feeling about him and Sarah, but had denied the obvious far too long.
Delia narrowed her eyes. “If that apple loaf ended up anywhere other than smashed over his head, you weren’t up front.”
“I wish I had smashed it. Instead, I calmly placed it, and the bracelet he’d given me on our three-month anniversary, on the table and let myself out.”
Delia muttered a humph . “See? Even in that situation you didn’t think you could be yourself. Show your real feelings.”
“I was trying to take the high road. Then to add insult to injury, Trey bad-mouthed me to the head teacher and took my job recommendation.” Elisa swallowed. “Man, I know how to pick ’em.”
“You picked a bad apple, hon. That’s all.”
“That apple cost me a post-graduation job.” Elisa nibbled on her lip, tempted to go back to the memory and wallow a moment. “But you know all that. And I’m happy how things worked out, getting to come back to the Blossom.”
“Getting back to Noah…” Delia waved one hand in the air, as if they’d given Trey all the air he deserved. “I think Noah is a possibility—at least one not to be cast out like yesterday’s waffles.”
“I’m more of a pancake girl.” But Elisa’s smile fell flat. “Besides, I don’t even know how much longer he’s going to stay in Magnolia Bay. Word is he’s just here to get the inn ready and then will be moving on.”
“Never know for sure until you ask .” Delia gave her a pointed glance. “And talk about how you feel .”
Elisa worked the straw wrapper faster, heart pounding. No way could she address the kiss with Noah. Despite what Delia was saying about being real, it was better to pretend like it hadn’t affected her, to keep her emotions in check.
Being real was too dangerous.
“I hear you, Mama D. But talking to Noah or my dad seems like it’ll just cause more issues.”
“It’s always worth having a conversation.” Delia straightened in her chair. “Trust me, dear.”
“Fine.” Elisa dropped the wrapper and let out a defeated sigh. “Which man in my life do you recommend I talk to first?”
“That’s easy.” Delia leaned back, folding her hands across her stomach as she grinned. “The one approaching our table, of course.”